


How to save a life

by Sys



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sys/pseuds/Sys
Summary: I promise everyone is okay in the end. I do promise.





	How to save a life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [navaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/gifts).



> Hi! If you received this story and don't like it, please just let me know. (Something along the lines of "No thanks" will do nicely. I'll be happy to remove it, so it's not associated with you any longer.) I hope you're having a fantastic New Year and that you and yours are safe, happy and healthy and remain thus.

It takes longer than it should, shaking off the first shock after the impact. But when she does there are so many things to do at once. Send a distress signal. Check on Dax. Figure out how to secure their locations against whatever might roam the planet. With the long range sensors out, there’s little hope to be forewarned early. It is essential not to panic. 

But there is so much blood. And Jadzia really looks like she needs medical attention beyond a med kit and some first aid basics. But even if she set off the distress call, there is no hope for any help for at least eight hours. What if something happened to the symbiont? Her skin is cool to the touch, even cooler than it usually is. And she still hasn’t regained consciousness. You keep concussed people awake, don’t you? No, panic is the wrong advisor here. She takes a deep breath. And another. Measured. Slow. You don’t survive the Cardassian reign of terror to faint over a shuttle crash. 

Really, where’s Bashir when you need him? And O’Brien? 

She prepares the best makeshift lair for her patient that can be made out of the emergency supplies. Contemplates trying to lift her. But what if that’s the wrong move? What if leaving her exactly as she is would be better? But how do you check someone for wounds if they’re still keeled over in their seat? And she can’t let her bleed out just so she doesn’t worsen the head wound.

Jadzia Dax is not a heavy person. But trying to lift her isn’t easy, particularly if you try to avoid any fast movements or, worse, any impact with the shuttle’s sparse furniture. “Come on, it’s not far”, she tells the dead weight in her arms. Whispers encouragements that fall on deaf ears. Or rather, on ears not currently receiving the message. “We’ll get out of this, I promise.”

Most cuts seem superfluous. But there’s a nasty gnash near the stomach and the head wound’s started bleeding again. It takes gritted teeth not to give up. But you cannot give up if someone depends on you. And so she gets out the med kit, praying fervently that the Prophets may take pity on a friend this dear to her heart even if she is of another race. And a Scientist at that. This cannot matter. Not if she is so essential to the Emissary’s mission. No losing Jadzia... 

There is a rule about which wounds you’re meant to treat first. But she’s not sure whether the head wound or the stomach gnash qualifies as gravest. So she goes with her gut, which tells her that there’s more blood loss from the stomach wound. And anyway... what if it’s anywhere close to the symbiont? Who’s supposed to remember where exactly that sits? It is difficult, training the sealer and holding it carefully when her hands are trembling. But there’s no one who could take over. So her best will need to be enough. 

The thought that whatever caused the stomach gnash might still be inside occurs to her only later, when the bleeding is stopped and she’s about to move to the head wound. But there is _no_ hope that she could locate it with the shuttle’s emergency equipment and even if she could... a few years in the resistance don’t make you a trained medic. Let alone a surgeon. No the head wound. The distress signal. And then it’s time to see to the long range sensors. Deep. Breaths. 

She spreads one of the blankets over Jadzia before she leaves her to rest. The distress signal seems to make it without any problems. But whether or not it is picked up -and by the right people- remains to be seen. The long range sensors though... she’s no engineer. And what little she may have picked up over the years is more compatible with ancient runabouts the resistance could get their hands on, not with Starfleet high tech that’s only about five years old.

No, it’s no use. Best to just barricade the shuttle doors. And pray.

 

“Who are you?”

Maybe it’s the mild disorientation you feel after you drifted off to sleep in a sitting position. But shouldn’t Jadzia know who she is?

“Dax?”

“I asked who _you_ are.”

Well nice that she knows who she is, at least. 

“Major Kira Nerys. I’m...” And well, that’s an awkward one to say aloud if she doesn’t remember. “... your friend.” And a coward, apparently. There are quite a few more appropriate terms, these days.

“I would remember that.”

“You hit your head pretty badly when our shuttle crashed.”

“And now you’re trying to tell me that I would forget who you are. I’m not as gullible as Tobin...” 

“Tobin was the one before Emony, right?” 

“My last host. Yes.”

“Your last host was Curzon. Or Verad if you want to count him?”

“Just who do you think I am?”

“You _are_ Jadzia Dax. But you got hurt in a shuttle crash and maybe your connection to the symbiont’s affected.”

“I am Emony Dax.” Dax informs her, earnestly. But she doesn’t seem entirely sure of the matter, because she’s got that little wrinkle in the middle of her forehead that says she’s pondering something. Which cannot be good in her state. “And I will be missed.” There’s no real conviction behind those words. She’s heard people make that same claim with a _lot_ more self confidence involved. Not that that helped them.

“Well... Emony... we’ve been in a shuttle crash and I need you to rest, is that okay? I’ve already sent off a distress signal, so help is on its way.”

“So who are you really?”

“Just someone who is trying to get us out of this mess.”

Oddly that seems to be good enough. Or maybe “Emony” is simply too tired to argue. 

“Is there anything I can do? Would you like to eat or drink something?”

“Feeling nauseous already. It’s almost worse than before my first competition.”

“I’m sure you amazed them.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know how high the standards are to receive a symbiont.”

Emony frowns at that. As if it was a secret that symbionts aren’t just handed out to anyone who wants one. Or at least not unless something goes terribly wrong. It is a blessing that this is Emony. Not Joran. But is it okay that she looks like she’s going to sleep again? Wouldn’t it be better to keep her awake?

“Tell me about your competitions,” she tries. 

But Emony waves her off with a gesture that very much reminds her of Jadzia when she’s too lazy to get up yet. Not that they wake up together often. If you’re not ready to tell people about your relationship there are only so many supposed sleepovers you can have without anyone catching on.

“Please, I’d like to know...”

“What would you like to know?”

“I’d like to hear more about your competitions.”

“Do you think I’m Emony?”

An amused grin. 

“Jadzia?”

She’s unprepared for the mixture of emotions that question brings.

“Amazing young girl. Great potential.”

Well that really only leaves one guess who this is. She reigns in her anger at the man for all the gnawing doubts he’s left her friend with. He’s clearly in no state to be argued with right now. If anything, Jadzia looks worse now than she did a few minutes ago. Do Trill do this before they die? Jump back and forth between their hosts in a desperate attempt to remember who they are? Or is it Dax who is... Jadzia couldn’t survive without her symbiont, so it doesn’t matter who is in trouble. One of them is. At least one of them.

She grasps her hand and it is cold. But of course it is. Jadzia’s hands always are cold. 

“Curzon, can you help me? I need you to stay awake, Dax is in trouble.”

“You are a pretty one.” The smile’s one Jadzia likes to give her. And part of her wonders how much of this is Dax. All of the hosts. If she’s sleeping with all of them, rather than just the woman she thinks she loves. “Love those ridges.”

There is something very disturbing about flirting with someone who looks and sounds like your lover but is really only part of her memories. But if it’s any comfort to them... any of them... she takes their hands and places Jadzia’s fingers against her nose. There’s an odd wonder to a touch that’s so familiar between them. Jadzia loves them, too. Or was that Curzon all along?

“I never slept with a Bajoran woman before. Always liked them, though.”

She ignores anything and everything she remembers of Curzon’s involvement with their enemies. Pushes away her anger at the way it could’ve cost Jadzia’s life that Dax (or both of them?) was too stubborn to talk about Enina Tandro. About that damned affair of a man too prone to sleep with every pretty woman he met. Or well, most pretty women he liked. He had managed to keep his hands off Jadzia, hadn’t he? Despite those inappropriate feelings...

“I thought you like Klingons best.” A feeble attempt at changing the topic.

“They’re definitely more _fun_.”

“Blood and honor and broken bones?”

It’s _not_ the first lecture she’s received on Klingon culture. But it’s easier to feign ignorance, because that seems to motivate Curzon to lecture her. And while she has no idea why, something about getting warmed up by the topic seems to help Dax sound almost back to normal. Well except for the leery comments on Klingon mating rituals that seem designed to either shock or amuse her. Does Curzon really think Bajorans are religious prudes who woke up yesterday? Jadzia would certainly know better. 

“Have you ever been bitten?”

Seriously... 

“My girlfriend likes....” Are any of the bite marks on her skin still visible? Damn, if Julian sees those...

“Your _girl_ friend?”

She’s surprised at the tone. Somehow she’d expected Curzon to be more of a dirty old man about the idea. Instead what she’s got is surprise. 

“I’m... I’m terrible with women.”

Nailbiting? That’s Tobin, isn’t it? There are faint memories of him, trapped somewhere, left behind by Lela’s time shared with her. Smart, but too timid to really look at the one whose life had come close to the end. But didn’t he have kids? She’s pretty sure Jadzia mentioned three or four of them. Can’t have been that bad with women then, surely. Not that there’s any way to tell if this is Tobin shortly after being joined with Dax or close to the end of his life. 

If they really are running through all of the hosts with no discernible order she’d have to restrain them though. Can’t have Joran drop in unannounced... that’d be dangerous even _if_ he was restrained. 

“Please lie still, you hurt your head.” She says, trying to sound perfectly nonchalant. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

Thankfully it doesn’t seem to occur to Tobin to question the tone of gentle authority she picked for him. So while he sounds as if he’s trying to apply for a job, offering up his skills and CV rather than any additional information on the kids he may or may not already have, he at least keeps talking, leaving her to study the shuttle’s supplies in search of anything she can use to secure Jadzia’s wrists without hurting her. Probably her legs to. And what if that bastard uses hurting the body he’s in again? As if Jadzia getting hurt severely isn’t enough of a nightmare in and of itself. 

Using bandages from the med kit is about the most ridiculous thing she can think of. But it seems to be her best option. Tobin doesn’t even protest when she smiles gently and starts to tie him up. Probably a good thing she’s got that one right now. Few of the other hosts are that pliant. Although she might’ve managed to reason with Lela and Audrid, at least. 

When she’s done with both legs and wrists, she wonders how long she can keep this up before the restraints will start to do their own negative impact. But once Joran shows up -if he shows up- it’s too late. Jadzia’s body handled by someone ruthless... and if she can’t risk using her own strength without endangering her... girlfriend, if she’s managed for Curzon she can manage using it for herself... that’d be nowhere near a fair match.

The next step is to move everything she might need into their vicinity. Before she carefully sits, cross-legged, beside Jadzia and gently moves her head against her lap. 

“What are you doing?”

So he is still paying attention? 

“Your head is hurt. I’m just trying to make sure that you are comfortable.”

“Oh... thank you.”

Tobin’s making it up her list of favorite formers fast. Particularly when he quickly resumes his merits to overplay any nervousness about their changed situation. 

“You feel familiar.”

She’s still in the middle of unraveling Tobin’s list of merits, so it takes her a moment.

“You were with me for my last zhian’tara, weren’t you?”

“Lela?” 

“That young woman... Jadzia... she’s in serious danger?”

“We’ve been in an accident.”

“Our symbiont is terrified. The connection to Jadzia must be in jeopardy.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“She needs to go to Trill. As fast as possible.”

“So I’ll have to try to start the shuttle again?”

“You’ll need Torias. But...” There’s a pause. “He died in a shuttle crash. He’ll be terrified of this. And Dax is already... do you think you can keep them focused?”

“I don’t think any of you should be flying a shuttle.”

“Your friend and our symbiont depend on this.”

“I’ve sent out a distress call. Help is...”

“Listen I like you, but you don’t seem to understand the situation. You are wasting time waiting for help. And we don’t have much left.”

“Emony said you are nauseous. And you’ve got a stomach wound I barely managed to seal. If...”

“What is happening to us will kill us if we aren’t treated as fast as possible. By people who know what to do.”

She removes the ties, wondering if Lela can actually rouse Torias because she wants to. But she’s not going to argue with a Trill on what Trill hosts can and can’t do. If Lela remembers the zhian’tara she knows more than the last few hosts she’s talked to.

The hand around her throat catches her completely off guard. 

“Gullible little fool.”

Joran.

Both hands are enough to peel off the one that’s around her throat. But the madness in Jadzia’s eyes is worse than the hands she’s stupidly freed. How did Joran even know that she was Lela’s host body for the zhian’tara? Would Dax side with him? And if so... why? Did she talk to anyone but Joran in these past... minutes? Hours, even? What if Dax believes that Joran’s the best option for self-defense? There is something about the tone of what she thought was Lela when she talked about the symbiont being terrified... 

“You are scared.”

“Why would I be scared? I...”

“Because you might die. But you don’t need Joran. You are safe with me. I will do anything I can to protect you. You _know_ me, Dax.”

“Nerys...”

“You know that I love you.”

Jadzia’s eyes change again. Her expression softer once more. And it could be a trick. But she prays it isn’t. Perhaps Dax _does_ know her well enough? She strokes her lover’s face. Gently. Hums what she remembers is a nursery rhyme her mother used to sing. And tries to ignore the feelings of betrayal that well up. She did what she thought she needed to do. Nothing more. Nothing less. Something about the soft melody seems to please Dax, because she knows that particular smile.

“You would be a good mother.”

“No better than you I fear.”

“Are you questioning my parenting skills?”

She’s almost tempted to ask Dax to sing. But the only Dax host who’s good at music... actually perhaps that’s a perfect way to tell if Joran’s back.

“Can you sing any nursery rhymes?”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Now which one is this? Or can Dax actually talk to her without any of the hosts involved?

“Tell me a story then. Something you would tell a child.”

That’s surprisingly easy. So it’s probably one of the mothers -or fathers-, but there’s several of those among Dax’s former hosts. She’s mildly surprised that it’s a morality tale. But really, what does she know about Trillian stories? Sometimes it feels as if Jadzia’s more likely to tell her everything about Klingon culture than any proper information on what it was like on Trill. Maybe because growing up on Trill isn’t anything special to someone who did it? As if hearing about a normal childhood wouldn’t be special enough... different enough from anything she’s experienced.

When Meeron, the tale’s hero has learned his lesson, it turns out that that’s solely the first step of the adventure. But a long story is good. And she likes how steady Jadzia’s voice sounds, no matter who is currently using it. 

“Defiant to Rio Grande.” She’s _completely_ unprepared for hearing Sisko’s voice in the midst of Meeron’s struggle in the fire caves. “Major, can you hear me?”

She answers the call. Explains the situation. Very professionally. Almost as if her girlfriend wasn’t dying. As if the whole thing would just be resolved with the Emissary there. And the Defiant around to take them home. The first ship to reach them, the most welcome one. Bashir looks concerned when he and Sisko beam over. And she relates what Joran told her, but remembers to add the source for evaluation. 

Still, Bashir seems to agree that Trill is the best option. And it all is out of her hands now, with Julian making the decision to beam them onto the Defiant and the men worrying over their friend’s health together. With Sisko grasping her hand and Julian talking to her in gentle tones. They’ve got that situation under control. And the advice that she should get some sleep is well intentioned. She _knows_ that. But the bridge crew needs to be put to work. And Sisko’s clearly too preoccupied for the moment.

The crew obeys her orders as they would Sisko’s, despite the lack of any formal hand-over of the Command. They’re used to them sometimes missing that bit of protocol. And nobody even seems surprised when they head for Trill rather than back to Deep Space Nine. Word probably got round that Jadzia got hurt. She isn’t really needed for any of this. But it’s definitely better to command a ship than to sit around and fail to sleep elsewhere on the ship.

It doesn’t take long for Sisko to arrive. And she notes the small smile. “She’s asking for you. I told her I had an idea where to find you after I specifically asked you to get some rest. Now get out of my chair.” He sounds far too jovial. Oddly so. So either he’s putting on a brave face to calm the crew. Or Julian’s no longer as worried as they all were a few minutes ago.

Jadzia does still look miserable when she joins them. But Julian turns to smile at her. “If you ever get tired of Command, I’ll recommend you for a medical career. That was really good work, Nerys. I have no idea how you...” 

“What Julian’s trying to say is... you saved my life,” Dax interrupts. “Thank you.”

“The Prophets guided my hands wisely.” But her prayers of gratitude will wait until she has rested enough to give them appropriate time and consideration. Preferably in temple. And all this isn’t over until after they’ve been to Trill and Jadzia is _really_ going to be fine. “You left off your story in the fire caves.... you owe me the end to that.”

“Sit with me and I’ll tell you the rest.”

She ignores Bashir’s grin. It’s friendly teasing, if that. Might actually just be a good-natured _I’m happy you made it out alive_ one. So all she does is sit beside her girlfriend, take her hand and listen to the adventures of Meeron, wondering if maybe this story is one Jadzia grew up with after all. Because exhaustion aside... that smile is one she’s seen many a time. And it’s not one she’s seen since the crash.


End file.
